Who are you?

The voices of mental illness.

Fast pace voice, a whisper through the night.
Who are you they screamed, but I was not the night.
The glory of the day, the lights around less fade, screeching sound, leave me be.
Keep your secrets.Hold me not so tight.  Release this wrap; I promise I won't fight.
Neither will they, for they are all my friends.They listen to my worries, and I became their lend. Lenders of the other world, where chimney keeps the utters warm.
Where voices bounce off lighted walls.  With matching jackets, I bite, and I claw.
I see their face.
 I see days light that night creates. Who are you I screamed?  I hear their response; the voices were low but clear, chilled with disturbing violence, but offered with a thrill.
Fast pace voice, a whisper through the night.I am you they said, and you are me. I couldn't understand because that voice was me.

Reviews

[Sir Drift & Mr. Pulse]

Voices cant reach the heart that shuts its ears? Voices in a head are the echo of your thoughts. Where are we, me, myself and I. I remember now, it is only me talking to myself. Yes, the voices sound sweet and sour, but in the end you control with power.